The hilt of the sword creaked in Arata's hand, as if it couldn't bear the weight.
Ichimaru Gin's narrowed eyes widened slightly, and for the second time that day, surprise flickered in his light blue pupils.
He finally realized he had fallen into a trap. That violet-haired youth had truly used his own flesh and blood as bait and forcefully clamped down on his Zanpakutō like a vice.
"Vice-Captain Ichimaru, this time you can't escape."
"Bakudō #63: Sajō Sabaku!"
Arata grinned and quickly cast the Kidō with his free left hand. Golden chains, formed of dense spiritual power, shot out of the void as if alive and instantly bound Ichimaru Gin's limbs.
The clinking of tightening chains echoed throughout the dōjō.
"Oh ho, looks like I can't get out of this one." Ichimaru Gin's voice was still smiling, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his true feelings.
He tried to break free, but found that the chains composed of those spiritual particles were far stronger than anything he had encountered before.
The blunt edge of Meigetsu's blade gently pressed against Ichimaru Gin's neck, and the cold steel brought a faint shiver to the surface of his skin.
"Vice-Captain Ichimaru, do you admit defeat?"
Arata was breathing heavily, exhaustion welling up from within.
After continuously using high-speed Shunpo and engaging in an intense battle, then casting two high-level Bakudō without incantation, even a captain-level reserve of spiritual pressure was becoming barely tolerable.
Ichimaru Gin's Adam's apple shifted slightly under the pressure of the sword's flat side.
He suddenly relaxed his body, and a fox-like smile returned to his face.
"I surrender~"
As soon as he said it, the golden chains on his body dissipated.
Arata withdrew the long sword, and the violet flames along the blade receded like the tide.
"To lose to someone who just graduated, like Saito–kun… it seems I'm still not qualified to be a captain."
Ichimaru Gin rubbed his wrist, his tone so casual it sounded less like he was talking about a captain's assessment and more like he was commenting on what he had for breakfast.
Then the entire dōjō trembled with thunderous applause.
Matsumoto Rangiku, in the midst of the crowd, suddenly covered her mouth, and her long golden hair dipped slightly as she leaned forward.
The three people in front of her jumped to their feet and shouted.
"Arata's just like that!"
"You deserve to have been top of our class!"
"Magnificent! You're totally worthy of being the 3rd Seat of our 11th Division!" Kenpachi Zaraki shouted excitedly, his wild laughter deafening the hall.
"Hey, Captain, when did someone take my 3rd Seat without me knowing?!" Madarame Ikkaku immediately began to protest.
"Because Baldy could never beat Hard Candy~"
Yachiru lay atop Kenpachi's head, kicking her legs and laughing like little bells.
"Even though I don't want to admit it, every time I see Arata fight someone, the rest of us look like a bunch of nameless, hopeless background characters." Ayasegawa Yumichika sighed and smiled bitterly.
"It must be said, both of them delivered performances well above the captain assessment threshold." Kyōraku Shunsui pressed down his straw hat and quietly commented, "Especially that kid, Arata. Where did he pick up the idea to trade blow for blow at the end?"
Ukitake Jūshirō gave a soft cough, a smile spreading across his pale face. "From the initial use of Sekienton to obscure the field of vision, to the follow-up Rikujōkōrō deliberately exposing his spiritual pressure to bait the opponent into attacking, every step was a carefully laid trap."
"Captain Unohana, what do you think?" He looked to Unohana Retsu, as if seeking her opinion.
"Arata–kun's control of the battle rhythm is truly commendable." Her gentle voice carried a rare note of admiration. "He first uses Kidō to create chaos, then deliberately reveals his position to lower the enemy's guard, and finally uses his own body as bait to complete the pincer trap."
"This battle strategy, which merges Zankensōki techniques with enemy psychology, already fully meets the standard of a Gotei 13 captain."
After hearing Unohana's comment and evaluation, Yamamoto Genryūsai, seated in the central position, nodded in satisfaction.
Dong, dong——
He stood up, and the heavy sound of his wooden cane striking the floor instantly silenced the noisy dōjō.
All eyes turned toward the Captain–Commander.
"After deliberation by several captains, I now announce the result of this captain assessment." Yamamoto's voice was like the toll of an ancient bell, deeply resonant in everyone's ears.
"Vice-Captain Ichimaru displayed exceptional skill and battle experience during the assessment, and his control of his Zanpakutō was also extremely mature. Although he lost the match, his performance has already met the standards for the captain position."
Gasps of surprise rippled through the audience.
In a corner where no one could see, Aizen Sosuke, hidden in the shadow of shimmering water and mirrors, adjusted his glasses and slightly raised the corners of his mouth.
Although the process was a bit bumpy, the result was the same.
And it was precisely because of such unexpected episodes that a worn-out life could gain a splash of vivid color.
"I hereby declare that former Vice-Captain of the 5th Division, Ichimaru Gin, is exceptionally promoted and will officially assume the post of Captain of the 3rd Division from this moment!"
…
Aizen Sosuke sat in a chair in the shadows, his glasses reflecting the orange candlelight, while he held a cup of hot tea, steam fogging the features of his face.
"Gin," he called softly, his deep voice echoing through the room, "what do you think of Saito Arata?"
"Captain Aizen, you want my honest opinion?" Ichimaru Gin tilted his head, his smile deepening, and a dangerous curve formed at the corner of his lips. "Saito Arata… definitely isn't a good person."
Aizen's long fingers lightly traced the rim of the teacup, and his face, bearing a gentle smile, was reflected on the surface of the dark tea.
"Oh? Go on, tell me."
"First, his kendo." Ichimaru Gin raised two fingers. "Did you notice? His kendo is much better than it was during the instructor's course two months ago."
The candle flame in the room suddenly trembled, as if stirred by an invisible current, and a strand of light passed over Aizen's glasses.
"Continue."
"The second thing is his eyes." Ichimaru Gin approached the candlestick, letting his fingertips brush over the flame without being burned. "When my divine spear pierced his shoulder, he was actually smiling."
He turned to Aizen, and the candlelight stretched his shadow to the extreme.
"Just like…" The silver-haired youth tilted his head, "just like Captain Zaraki does, a fearless monster."
"But most importantly," Ichimaru Gin continued, "I suspect he's hiding the true power of his Zanpakutō and not just a little."
Aizen finally set down his cup.
The sound of porcelain touching wood echoed unusually clearly in the secret chamber.
"On what basis?"
"My sixth sense." Ichimaru Gin touched his temple with one finger. "Throughout the entire fight, aside from that first attack with the purple flame sphere, he never revealed a single other technique."
Aizen stood up, the hem of his haori lightly rippling in the candlelight.
He walked to the shelf by the wall and let his fingertips glide over a row of yellowed books.
"Interesting." A hint of satisfaction crept into Aizen's voice. "Not since Urahara Kisuke and the others have I encountered something this surprising."
Ichimaru Gin stared intently at Aizen's back.
Moonlight and candlelight intertwined across those broad shoulders, casting eerie shadows.
"Shall we get rid of him?" he asked quietly, in a tone as relaxed as discussing what to snack on tonight.
Aizen pulled a book with golden covers from the shelf.
As the pages turned, a faint ancient scent spread through the room.
"Not yet." His fingers stopped at an illustration, a page documenting the historical development of noble families in the Soul Society.
"I'd rather watch a little longer… and see just how far that genius can go."
———
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